You Remind Me of Someone
by The All-Seeing Ry
Summary: After getting set up by his friends, Jake takes Clara on a date to Paris- which is where he realizes one of the reasons he likes her so much. (Not the typical story I write, but I wanted to try something! :))


**I**

Clara's shoes clicked as she hurried down the hallway, looking around. "Doctor?" she called. She peered through a cracked door.

The rug was covered with various tools- some which Clara recognized, some which she'd never seen before. Ancient shelves held neatly- aligned books with faded yet gently handled spines. This must be Jenkins' lab, Clara realized once she saw Jenkins standing at a table, pointing out the little dimensions of a globe to Jacob and Ezekiel.

Clara cautiously stepped in.

Jenkins quietly said to the two,"... No, no, Mister Jones, you do not play pinball with the inside of this globe."

"But it's askin' for it," the thief protested.

Jake hid a smile. "Jones, it's a tool, not a toy."

Jenkins' brow raised. "Mister Stone, you actually made sense-" he looked past Jake's shoulder. "Yes, Miss Oswald?"

Jake turned quickly, blue eyes widening. "Cl- Cl- Clara!" He cleared his throat and attempted to lean on the table, trying to be cool. "W- what're ya doing-"

He fell onto the ground back- first. Oh. That wasn't the table.

Ezekiel burst out laughing.

Clara gasped. "Jacob! Are you okay?" She began to walk over.

Jake lept up, smoothing back his hair as he cleared his throat, turning red. "Y- yeah."

Jenkins gave the historian a disapproving look before turning back to Clara. "How can I help you, Miss Oswald?"

The brunette shrugged quietly. "I was just looking for the Doctor."

"Ah." Jenkins nodded. "Well, he should be back in the archives. I suggest you take Mister Carson with you; it's very... vast."

Clara nodded. "Thanks, Jenkins." She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at them before walking out of the lab.

Jake sighed wistfully as a tiny, dreamy smile crossed his lips.

Ezekiel snorted as wiped away a tear. "Mate, ya..." he wheezed, out of breath from laughing, "ya leaned on nothing!"

"Hm? What?" Jake blinked, suddenly snapping out of his trance, which only succeeded in making the thief laugh harder.

Jenkins coughed and mumbled, "It's becoming... obvious."

The red in Jake's cheeks grew, eventually blotching his nose and ears. "Wh- ob- what's becoming obvi- g- guys!" He stood and paced out.

Ezekiel coughed as his fit of laughter eventually died down. "He's funny."

"Mm, Mid- Westerners tend to be humorous without trying to." Jenkins turned on the blow torch.

Ezekiel pursed his lips in thought. "Jenkins, I've been thinking-"

"A dangerous past time for you, Mister Jones."

Ezekiel ignored the comment. "Maybe we should try to... ya know." He shrugged.

Jenkins sighed. "Mister Jones, you need to buy me dinner first."

"Wha- no!" The thief leaned over the table. "With Clara and Jake."

"You're going to have to take them out, too."

The famous smirk crossed Ezekiel's face- the one that said, "You know I'm going to."

Jenkins blinked. "It's going to be impossible for them to have a decent conversation with you there."

"Oh, I wasn't gonna take 'em out." Ezekiel stood. "C'mon, Jenkins, that's so nineteenth century. No, he's gonna take her out.

 **II**

Jake picked up the pile of books. "Cassie, did Jenkins ever say where to put these?"

The synesthete smoothed back her ginger hair, thinking. "Um, shelf them."

Jake nodded and strode to the shelf and began to slide the books into their proper places.

"So," Cassandra opened a tiny drawer, "how are things going with you and Clara?"

Jake nearly dropped the books onto his foot, making Cassandra jump.

He turned slowly. "Wh- what made you think-"

"Jake, it's obvious." Cassandra shrugged. "I mean, you both are so much alike, but different. Like the concept of Yin- Yang."

"Cassie, this isn't philosophy class."

"I know," Cassandra reached up and moved the black symbol over Jake. "See, you like the liberal arts- you know, history and art and music. You're American. You're sort of an introvert. And Clara-" she tapped the white Yang- "is more of a scientist- astronomically and time- space-y. She's been everywhere in the universe. She's British. Together-" Cassandra pulled the symbols together- "you both balance each other out, and are able to bring more of each other out."

Jake's nose twitched in slight confusion. "Oh... kay..."

"Jake, try asking her out."

"Wha- psst- Cas, I can't-"

"You totally can-"

"It's impossible to ask her-"

"Ask who what?" Clara's voice piped up from the door.

Jake spun around, blue eyes wide in surprise. "CLARA." He collapsed back.

Cassandra pursed her lips and eyed Jake, brows raised, teal eyes half- idel as if saying, " Do your thing."

Jake lept up before Clara helped him stand, turning red. "I- I'm fine."

Clara pulled her hand back from his arm. "You sure?"

"Y- yeah-"

"Jake!" Ezekiel jogged over. "Mate, good news, I was able to make reservations."

Jake blinked. "Huh?"

Clara was just as confused. "Reservations?"

Ezekiel looked down at Clara and grinned. "Oh, there she is! The lucky lady!"

Jake's eyes slowly changed from confusion to surprise to murder.

Clara's brow cocked. "'Lucky lady'?"

"Yeah." Ezekiel's smile faded a bit, then he looked at Jake. "You didn't ask her?"

"No." Jake said this to Ezekiel with clenched teeth.

"Oh." Ezekiel turned to Clara. "He was gonna ask ya to dinner in Paris."

Clara's head tilted back, perhaps getting the wrong idea. "Paris?"

"Oh, noting more than just dinner," Cassandra butted in. "Right, Zeke?"

"Right." Ezekiel smiled. "Oh, you'd love it, Clara, it's on the countryside o' Paris, with a view of the city and the Eiffel Tower."

"Y- you-" Jake coughed- "you don't have to go-"

"No." Clara's eyes softened. "I really wouldn't mind, Jake."

He stopped short. "R- really?"

"Yeah." She smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I really wouldn't."

Jake felt a grin twitch onto his face. "Great."

Clara rocked on her heels. "Paris is ahead of Portland by about nine hours. So..." she pursed her lips. "See you at... one tomorrow?"

"Y- yeah." The historian grinned.

Clara turned and walked out, smiling back at them.

"Formal wear," Ezekiel called, "like, cocktail party formal!"

"Got it!" Clara called over her shoulder as she walked out.

Jake smiled after her. Once she left, he turned slowly to Ezekiel with murder in his eyes. "If this doesn't go well-"

"It will." Ezekiel patted his arm. "Now, go sleep a bit, 'kay, mate? Just recite Keats to her or somethin'. Ya know, walkin' in beauty, somethin' 'bout stars and light and eyes. He's never wrong, right? Riiiiight." He dragged Jake upstairs and locked him in his room. "IT'LL BE OKAY GOOD BYE" He ran away.

Jake groaned and flopped face- first onto his bed.

 **III**

At about twelve-ish, Jake was excused from working so he could get ready. He ignored Ezekiel's jesting and Cassandra's little tidbits of advice as he walked up the stairs to his room to take a shower.

At about twelve fifteen, he got out of the shower and frowned at the clothes Ezekiel- or Jenkins, maybe both- had selected for him. A pair of black jeans, a light blue button- up, a grey vest lined with black fabric, and a silvery bolo tie.

Ugh. They were being stereotypical. Again.

With a groan, he changed into the fresh clothes and combed his hair, then stared at himself in the mirror for a long time.

He was an idiot.

Once it was about twelve- twenty-five, he pulled on his best shoes and shaved his stubble. Which was hard. He still had stubble, even after he shaved.

He couldn't help but maybe dab a bit of cologne on himself after brushing his teeth and splashing off his face.

Once it was twelve- thirty, he hurried down stairs while everyone else was in the kitchen and waited nervously by the Back Door, checking his watch.

He tapped his foot. Hopefully, Ezekiel didn't set him up for embarrassment, or else he'd be dead.

Twelve- fourty two.

He looked in the mirror and straightened his bolo, then looked down at the vase of flowers.

Twelve fourty nine.

He cautiously took a lovely red rose from the vase and fiddled with the stem.

Twelve fifty one.

He heard footsteps behind him. "Jacob?"

Jake turned. "Yeaaaaaaaahhhh..." he gawked.

Clara gave him a half- smile as she folded her hands behind her back. She wore a white dress with a skirt puffing out over her knees, the top embroidered with gold thread. She rocked on her heels in her light creme flats, and she smoothed back a strand of her hair back into her bun. "Is this okay?"

He felt himself grin silly. "You look beautiful." He coughed. "N- not that you don't l- look beautiful every day, but you're- um, you know- a different kind of beautiful-"

Clara giggled. "Jacob, thank you." She reached up and straightened his bolo. "You look very dapper."

He blushed, then turned to the globe and turned it to right above Paris.

The Door spun on its hinges until it stopped at a simple, elegant pair of glass doors.

Jake winced. "We'll need our jackets," he said as he walked over to the coat rack. "It may get cold." He pulled off a nice navy blue jacket.

Clara nodded. "I'll be right back." She hurried into the TARDIS.

The Doctor turned to her, suspicious. "Where are you going?"

"To my room to grab something." Clara hurried into her room and to her closet and dug through the hangers.

The Doctor stood at the door with a disapproving frown. "Who're you goin' out with?"

"Friends." Clara picked up a creme wrap. That would have to do.

"It's that Stone boy, isn't it?" he sneered.

Clara walked past him. "No, just some friends in Paris."

"Oh." The Doctor's brows raised. "Alrighty, then."

But once Clara had hurried out, the Doctor turned to the computer in the TARDIS. "To Paris, very quickly!"

 **IV**

Clara took Jake's arm as they walked through the Back Door.

Jake felt himself flex a bit- she probably couldn't feel it thought his jacket, but it wouldn't hurt to show off a bit, right?

Clara looked up at the restaurant. "Wow."

It was more like a patio than a restaurant. Inside, Jake could see a few tables and the bar and the door that led to the kitchen, but outside, tables were neatly arranged to where the sitters could easily view the city of Paris. Next to the tables there were very comfy chairs that sat near two fire pits.

Jake cleared his throat and walked to the water and asked politely, "Pardon, monsuior?"

The waiter looked up. "Oui?"

Jake asked for the reservation.

The waiter looked at the list, then the conversation resumed in French.

Jake nodded. "Oui, merci."

The waiter motioned them to sit down near the fire pits.

Jake walked Clara to the chairs and sat down. "We have to wait a couple of minutes."

Clara sat next to him and hugged the wrap tighter around herself. "Oh, that's alright, Jake. I don't mind waiting."

Jake felt his face redden as he studied her profile. "You don't?"

"No." Clara hugged the wrap around her shoulders. "I don't. You're so pleasant to be around."

Jake's heart lept to his throat. At least Ezekiel actually made reservations.

He watched Clara softly look into the distance at the view of Paris. He could feel his voice waver as he managed, "Y- you're more than beautiful."

Her cheeks glowed a light shade of pink. "You're very kind," she smiled softly.

"T- thanks."

The two remained quiet until they were walked to their table.

Jake pulled back the chair for Clara to sit down in.

Once they were seated, they sat in awkward silence for... about five minutes.

Jake mentally facepalmed. He had to start a conversation. But what could he ever say to her? He could he even-

"Jacob?" Clara looked out at the horizon.

"Yeah?" He sat up.

"Have you ever been to Paris?" She rested her chin in the palm of her delicate hand.

Jake fiddled with his bolo tie and cleared his throat as he watched her. "Yeah."

"It's so lovely," she sighed and rested her chin on her hand.

Jake grinned dreamily. "Not as much as you," he mumbled.

"Hm?"

"Um!" Jake's eyes widened as he realized Clara was looking back at him, rather puzzled. Blushing furiously, he picked up the menu. "O- oh, they have soup."

He didn't notice the slight amount of hope in Clara's eyes dull. She nodded quietly and pulled her lips in and picked up her own menu.

 **V**

Jake looked up from his bowl of soup as he watched Clara stir her own, eyes still downcast.

Jake's brow creased. "You okay?"

"Yes."

Jake clamped his mouth shut. Maybe she thought this date was boring. Maybe she wanted to eat somewhere else.

Maybe she didn't like him.

This worry tightened around Jake's throat as he heard the orchestra play very jazzy music near them. He drew in a deep breath and stood, then held out his hand to her. "Clara? C- can we dance?"

To his surprise, she grinned and took his hand. "I truly never thought you'd ask."

He felt himself grinned as she led him to the dance floor and began to dance together.

She twirled under his arm. "You're wonderful."

"T- thanks." He grinned. "I practice. With Baird."

"Ah." She stepped closer to him- so close he could see the glow of the candlelight in her eyes and the light powder of freckles on her nose. "No wonder."

He swallowed hard. "Y- you're wonderful."

She smiled- Oh, God, it was a beautiful smile.

Jake dipped her back and studied her face in awe as she laughed. Her eyes closed and her button nose wrinkled whenever she did, and it was so precious.

He stood her back up and spun her again, no longer nervous as he took her hands and stepped backwards as their waltz became more lively.

"So," Clara grinned up at him, "can I ask you something?"

"Yeah." He pulled her back in to him so quick that that she dizzly leaned against him, still laughing.

"How did you make reservations to such a place in short notice?"

He shrugged, trying not to burst out laughing. "You know Zeke. H-he can make..." his eyes met hers, "...things... happen."

She smiled tenderly and reached up and brushed down his hair with her gentle, pretty fingers. "Impossible things?" she mumbled.

He swallowed hard, trying to get the lump out of his throat. "Y- yeah. Like..."

He would have said, "Like you" if the music didn't end, and the sound of everyone applauding for each other brought the historian and the time traveler out of their trance.

Jake looked over at their table and sighed. "Ya still hungry?"

"Mhm." Clara stood up straight and took his arm and walked back to the table with him.

 **VI**

"...and that's when I decided," Jake grinned as he remembered, "I'd probably never drive Jenkins' car again."

Clara laughed. "Oh, no!"

The two had just finished their dinner, and they were now sitting by the fire pit in one of the loveseats together, sipping glasses of white wine and relaxing and warming up.

Clara crossed her legs and smiled sweetly. "Well, at least Jenkins let you live. He can be sweet, can't he?"

"Yeah," Jake nodded. "At times."

Clara chuckled and sipped her wine for a moment.

Jake suddenly realized who Clara reminded him of, and it made his heart stop.

Mabel.

The dark eyes and hair; the sense of adventure; the bold, broad, amazing mind she had... everything reminded him of Mabel.

"Jacob?" Clara's brow creased when she looked back up at him. "Are you alright?"

Jake blinked as he snapped out of his thoughts. "Y- yeah."

Clara's lips pursed slightly. "Maybe a walk will do us some good." She stood up as he did and set her empty wine glass aside.

 **VII**

After getting out of the taxi cab, Jake opened the door for Clara and paid the driver, then folded his arm in hers as they began walking towards the Eiffel Tower, alongside the famous Seine river.

Clara shivered and hugged her wrap more around her.

Jake unbuttoned his jacket and folded the warm edge over her- she was short enough to make it work.

Clara rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his stomach. "Thank you."

"Y- you're welcome." Jake's face grew even redder. He slowly folded an arm over her back and hugged her closer as they walked, now step- in- step.

Clara looked up at a nearby building. "Is that an art gallery?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "Too bad it's closed."

"Shame." She sighed and leaned against him again. "I would've loved to look around with you."

Jake's heart flip- flopped as he watched her again. Her eyes were shut, her lips were in a soft smile, and cheeks were red from the cold.

He stopped and looked up at the glow of the Eiffel Tower. "Clara?"

"Yeah?"

"You... you remind me of someone. I- I mean, in a good way. I- I mean th- that's not why I asked you out, but I did because-"

"I know." Clara looked up at him and studied his own face- his square jaw was lightly clenched; his broken nose red from the cold; his hair was beginning to get wet from the very light drizzle; his blue eyes reflected the soft golden glow of the famous tower. "You just didn't want me to be alone and bored?" She glanced back down at the ground.

He looked down at her, suddenly at a loss of words. Finally, and slowly, he managed, "I... I guess I felt I owed you something in return for everything you and the Doctor had ever done of us."

She shook her head. "No, you saved us multiple times. It's me who should be paying you back."

"Clara-" he began.

She finally glanced back up at him. Her eyes- her beautiful, big dark eyes- seemed to hold the clearest night sky, full of stars and light clouds.

Jake was at a loss for words, entranced. Tenderly he smoothed a rough hand on her soft cheek, in awe once again as her eyes fluttered shut and her fingers lightly rubbed his wrist.

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat and tenderly leaned down. "Keats was right," he barely managed to even say this as she took his chin and pressed her lips to his.

Jake blinked for only a moment, then closed his eyes and kissed her fully.

As the rain began to fall harder, Clara hugged her arms around his shoulders and tilted her head to the side, and smiled as Jake picked her up around her waist and hugged her close to him, slowly turning in the rain. After a moment, he set her down and kissed her again and crumpled his fingers against her bun as she reached up and ran her hand through his hair.

Thunder cracked in the sky, causing Jake to slowly tug back, breathless as his heart thudded so hard in his chest that it broke Urasian Bolt's running record.

Clara's eyelashes barely fluttered open as her fingers rested on the back of his neck and against his chest, lips barely parted.

Jake swallowed hard and finally stood up straight. "W- we'd b- better, um... head back. To the Library."

She nodded softly.

He leaned down and kissed her again, brushing his hand on the side of her neck.

 **VIII**

Ezekiel rubbed his eyes and yawned, checking his watch. "Jenkins, when'll they be baaaaaaaaack?"

"Soon." Jenkins didn't budge from his seat. "It's only four in the morning there."

Ezekiel grinned tiredly yet evily. "Think they got-"

"No." Jenkins turned a page in his book. "Mister Stone is too well- behaved for that, actually. You'd be surprised. And Miss Oswald... well, she just wouldn't."

The Back Door opened.

Ezekiel lept up and bolted behind a shelf.

Jenkins calmly walked over and his behind him, peering between books.

Jake walked in, holding Clara's hand. They were talking quietly to each other and laughing softly as they slowly walked towards the stairwell and finally stopped there.

Clara smiled up at Jake. "I had a marvelous time," she said as she took both of his hands.

"So did I," Jake admitted quietly.

"Thank you." She reached up and tenderly stroked his cheek.

Jenkins slowly covered his own mouth, then Ezekiel's.

Jake leaned down and kissed her.

Ezekiel's jaw dropped, speechless.

Clara giggled against him and started to pull back, but stayed when Jake hummed in protest and took her cheeks.

Jenkins grinned.

Jake stepped backwards on the first step, leaning down just so he could kiss Clara for a little bit longer, then finally pulled away on the second step.

She reached up and tenderly stroked down his hair, smiling sweetly against him.

He watched her turn and walk into the TARDIS, then sighed and walked up the stairs, lovesick.

Jenkins chuckled. "How precious."

Ezekiel fainted. His plan had worked.

 **IX**

The Doctor looked at Clara as she walked in. "You were gone for a while."

"Mmm." She grinned.

He pursed his lips, deciding not to confront her about what he had seen in Paris until the morning.

X

Jake sat down in the edge of his bed and stared down at the photograph, tenderly studying Mabel's face.

She seemed to smile back at him, but what could a photograph ever actually say?

He carefully folded up the picture and put it in his trunk, underneath all of the books and canvas. He closed the trunk.


End file.
